Chapter 39 – Lumen
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Lumen
The second Malcolm guides me into our date, I know I’m in real trouble. It’s a vintage music shop with instruments lining the walls and vinyls and CDs in rows along the middle.
“Oh my god,” I whisper, taking in the pictures of musicians on the walls. “Malcolm, this place is a gem.”
His long brown hair falls over his face as his lips tip up at the edges. He looks almost shy but also proud. “Thank fuck. The internet didn’t steer me wrong.”
I grab his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Can we browse?”
“Hell yes.” He chuckles and lets me keep hold of his right hand as he spins behind me, planting his huge palm on my left hip. “From what I’ve heard, we can test out any of the instruments that are for sale.”
My heart thunders.
God, he really is great boyfriend material.
He was all smiles as he woke me up just before ten while I was busy trying to pretend like the alarm didn’t exist.
We cuddled and watched a movie after I gave him a blow job last night, but it was hard to fall asleep with the music playing in the living room.
Mal finally went out and told everyone to shut the hell up. Though it helped, I’m not sure what time we fell asleep.
I wasn’t well-rested enough to turn down the artificial energy when he offered as we got ready, but I’m a little worried that I’m counting on it too much to get me moving.
It’s sad that I finally understand why so many musicians end up addicted to one thing or another. Their schedule is brutal, and if they want to do anything that isn’t tour related, they have to cut into the few precious hours that they get to sleep to do it.
Malcolm shoves me forward with his hand on my hip. “You think they’ve got anything from Liminal in the racks?”
“They better.” I chuckle, grinning at him over my shoulder. “We’ll make it a treasure hunt to find out.”
The shop owner doesn’t take long to figure out who Malcolm is. We brought security, but unlike when I was with Kincaid, they stay outside the entire time.
I pull out my phone, snapping pictures of the guitars on the wall.
They have some that I haven’t seen in person, but I keep circling back to the blueberry burst Gibson.
I think that’s an ES-339. All the guitars are secondhand, and I think that model is only sold directly through Gibson when they’re new.
It’s so gorgeous.
“You eye that guitar any harder, and it’s going to drop its panties and bend over for you,” Malcolm says, sliding up behind me. “It’s damn pretty.”
“God, it really is,” I agree, flipping around the camera to take a selfie of me and Mal.
He grins, leaning around my back and kissing my cheek. It’s a great picture, but he doesn’t stop there. He rests his chin on my shoulder and says, “Take another, baby doll.”
I do, and he turns just in time.
I catch a shot of him smiling at me while I smile at the camera. It’s one of those pictures that makes it look like the guy is head over heels for the girl, and she doesn’t even notice.
It scares the hell out of me, so I exit out of the camera, close my phone, and shove it into my pocket.
“Would you like to see one?” The shop owner nods at the wall, rubbing his hands together. “I can get any of them down for you.”
I shake my head. “I was just admiring them. They’re amazing.”
“Can we check out the 339?” Mal asks, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “I was jealous of how much you love Kincaid’s Fender, but his Telecaster has nothing on that sweet Gibson.”
I laugh. “All guitars are beautiful.”
Malcolm’s chest vibrates behind me as he laughs. “Keep talking like that, and I’m going to have to marry you, baby doll.”
Oh, shit.
I focus on the shop owner, who chuckles as he climbs onto a step stool that seems to have appeared from nowhere. Concentrating on the guitar is a way better idea than spiraling about Malcolm’s joke.
The old man climbs down, holding out the electric blue guitar. It’s gorgeous, with darker blue weaved in.
“Would you like to test it out, sir?” he asks.
“Nah, this is a treat for her. Go on, Lulu. See if you like the feel.” Malcolm pats my hips and steps back.
My eyes dart to the big black price tag still hanging on the wall. That sucker is not cheap, but it won’t hurt to test it out.
“Are you still mad at me?” Malcolm asks as we walk down the sidewalk to wherever we’re headed next.
“I was never mad.” I snort. “I was just trying to explain that I didn’t need such an expensive guitar.”
Did I want it?
So much.
But wants aren’t needs.
“The way your eyes lit up. We had to get it.” Malcolm squeezes my hand, bringing it to his lips. “Now you have your very own to practice with.”
“Thank you,” I tell him for the tenth time. “I’ll cherish it forever.”
I peek back over my shoulder, checking that the security guy has the case. That guitar is officially the most expensive thing I own, and that includes my car that’s currently sitting in my dad’s driveway.
I suggested we should head back to the hotel, or at least drop it off in the SUV, but Malcolm has one more place he wants to visit, and he swore it’s close.
“Until the next one comes along and catches your eye.” He chuckles. “It happens to me all the time. Wait until you see our condo in Florida. It has some that are straight-up just for show.”
The guitar Malcolm bought me was a few thousand dollars, but I’ve seen some special edition guitars that go for ten to twenty grand when they’re brand new. That price goes up exponentially when they’ve got a story attached or there’s verification that it was played at a particular show.
Mal also helped me pick out a gift for Riser’s birthday while we were in the music shop. It was close to three hundred dollars, and Malcolm offered to pay for it, but I was stubborn and put it on my credit card. While it was more than I planned to spend, as long as he likes it, I’ll be fine.
I’m just about to ask who lives with him that he called it our condo, but he speaks before I get the chance.
“Ahh, here we are,” Malcolm says. “All right, baby doll. It’s time to shop for jewelry.” He drags me to the door, pulls it open, and guides me inside.
Hanging out with them is like a whole different world from what I’m used to.
Maybe I’m rotten, but I kinda love it.
I also need to work on making sure he understands that I like him for him.
Gifts are nice, but I’m used to getting by with very little. I won’t bring it up right this second, mostly because I get the feeling today is important to him, and I don’t want to ruin the vibe.
I end up with a charm bracelet and three starter charms. I don’t wear a ton of jewelry, but I love it. It’ll be fun to add to along the way.
More than that, it made Malcolm ridiculously happy, and that’s what today is about.
We barely make it back to the hotel in time to meet the others, and I end up packing a small bag of clothes that I’ll change into before the show tonight.
Once we make it to the venue, the guys are immediately whisked away to practice, but I stick around the greenroom with Wren.
That poor woman could not look more bored.
My plans involve unpacking my notebook and pulling out my new guitar.
My mouth is dry, and I’m kinda hungry for the first time today.
I saw vending machines in the hallway on the way in, so I dig around my bag for my wallet.
“I’m going to head out to grab a drink and maybe a snack,” I tell Wren, standing. “Do you want to come?”
She shakes her head. “Nah, but thank you.”
“Want me to bring you anything back?”
“A Coke, if you don’t mind,” she says, smiling. “Not diet or anything.”
“Be right back.” I circle around the couch and head out the door.
It closes loudly behind me, and I lean against it for support.
Theo stands on the opposite side of the hallway with his foot against the wall and his hands in his pockets.
“Hey.” He pulls them free, holding them up palm out. “I’m not stalking you, I swear. I was just trying to build up the courage to knock.”
My head tilts. “Okay, what’s up?”
He sighs, swiping a hand over his face. “I sent you an email, but I’m guessing you didn’t open that either.”
“No, I didn’t,” I admit, hating that I feel guilty.
All of this would be so much easier if he would be a raging asshole or an unapologetic dick.
The worst part is missing him.
He used to be my best friend.
Unfortunately, that’s over.
It would be so much easier if I never had to see him again.
“I figured,” he says slowly. “Look, I know you’re not going to take me back. I’ve seen you with Malcolm. You look way happier now than you ever did with me.”
I’m not sure whether that’s true or not. Either way, I’m not here to make him feel better. I know I’m a spiteful asshole, but I ride hard for the people I love. Once they screw me over, I can hold a grudge until the end of time.
“I need to apologize to you for one thing,” I tell him.
“It was wrong of me to push you to claim that my songs belonged to Tangled Desires. I wanted you guys to succeed, and I thought I was helping, but it set you up for failure in the long run.” My head shakes, and guilt washes over me so heavily that my stomach aches.
“It’s embarrassing, but I think I liked how it made me feel like you needed me.
I don’t know. Either way, it’s not an excuse.
I was wrong for pressuring you not to tell the label where they really came from, and I’m sorry. ”
“Lumen.” Theo says my name like he always used to, but it doesn’t hit quite the same, which is a huge relief. “God, I hate this so much.”
“Yeah,” I agree, nodding.
It hasn’t been very long, but it already feels like I don’t know him anymore. I’m sure that’ll only get easier over the next few months.
“The label is pulling us from the tour.”
“What?” I gasp, my eyes flying to his. “Why?”
“We’re finishing out this leg, but they called us into a big meeting. Our last show will be on Halloween,” he says. “After that, we’ve got two weeks off, then they’re sending us to Colorado to record.”
Thank God the label isn’t dropping them.
I really don’t need that on my conscience.
“That’s a big deal.”
“It is,” he agrees. “I called the old apartment complex and got the balance. You don’t owe them anything. It’s paid in full. All my stuff is mixed with yours in the storage unit…”
I frown.
God, that’s right.
“I took the offer. I would have paid off the apartment complex, but thank you. Are you going back to Florida during your break? I can give you the key to the storage unit.”
He nods. “The guys want to see their families. I won’t fuck with any of your stuff. I just want to get mine out, so we can make a clean break.”
My eyes ache, and I hate that my stupid system wants to cry. It just proves that no matter how much a person tries to plan in advance for heartbreak, it doesn’t help when the time comes.
“It’s on my key ring in my big bag.” I reach a hand back, opening the door. “Give me two seconds.”
I run back inside the greenroom, grab my keys, pull off the one for the storage unit, and head back out into the hallway.
“Just mail it to my dad’s house when you’re done.” I step over and hand him the key. “You’re going to be on the radio, huh?”
“Thanks.” He sighs, shoving the key into his pocket. “Yeah, apparently, and with songs you wrote. I’ll never be able to get away from how badly I fucked up.”
The more I study him up close, the easier it is to see how bad he looks. He has dark circles under his eyes, and he seems slimmer.
It’s easy to see that he’s suffering, and I hate it, but I also don’t think it’s my responsibility to make him feel better. At the same time, I don’t want to kick him when he’s down.
A big part of that comes from how happy I’ve been with Riser, Malcolm, and Kincaid. They’ve shown me that life keeps moving, and they’ve kept me busy enough that I haven’t had much time to wallow in the past.
“Look, Theo.” I smile tightly. “You’re an alpha. You’re going to find an omega and build your pack one day. It’s better that we didn’t get in too deep.”
“Come on, Lu. You know I never cared about that—”
“Do one thing for me. Clean up your act before you settle down again,” I say, even though I probably don’t have the right to give him any advice.
“You’re going to be crazy famous once you hit the radio.
It’ll be even more intense than it is now.
You have every right to enjoy it. Just don’t get into any relationships until you’re sure you’re ready to be with one person. ”
“I’m sorry—”
“I know. I’m going to go. Tell everyone I said congratulations.” And with that, I bolt down the hallway, past the vending machines, and into the first women’s room that I find.
I drop my wallet and rest my hands on the counter as my head hangs.
The tears that fall are obviously because I’m hormonal due to my period.
It’s hard.
I don’t want to be with him, and at the same time, I have so many unanswered questions.
Was that really the first time?
Why did he do it?
Why her?
Why didn’t he just break up with me?
Did he even really want me to come on tour with him?
How come he couldn’t just be content with having me?
Why wasn’t I enough?
Ultimately, none of it matters and getting answers wouldn’t make it suck any less.